SOMEWHERE ELSE NOW
When I play Tetris, sometimes the blocks fall apart. I put wooden boards on the ground. I have a special net. I try to keep everything together, centralized, a nervous system of colors. A color is all that keeps us sane. When we’re finished, I will hire your sister to paint the windows of the store front. When that’s finished, I will pay a stranger to throw a brick through her art. Nothing means NOTHING. I say WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU GET ALL BETTER? I take apart my book. I finish all these poems and then I erase my hard drive. You never know how much this hurts. Sometimes it sounds like I’m putting a knife into you, but it’s only a sound.
